


The Long Way Home

by burrfication



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Break Up, Friends With Benefits, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, M/M, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other minor characters - Freeform, Slow Burn, eventual lawyers AU, i think, other minor relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burrfication/pseuds/burrfication
Summary: There are very few students who can keep up with Alexander Hamilton. The only one who can is Aaron Burr - and it's for that reason Alexander fixates on him, despite Aaron's aloof mannerisms. It has nothing to do with how his smile makes Alexander's heart beat faster.Throughout university, the two orbit around each other, never quite getting what they want. But when graduation comes, both Aaron and Alexander have to make difficult decisions.





	1. Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> I intend to update this story slowly, about once a month - but that will accelerate once I've finished my first draft. 
> 
> disclaimer: I am not American. I've had to straight up guess key academic dates and certain cultural things.
> 
> Also, I'm realizing I've been using Australian English in a very particular manner. When I say "university", I mean "the place with lectures and classes and professors that gives you a degree". When I say "college", I mean "the residential hall that gives you food and a place to sleep". I'm not changing it because I'm lazy.

Within four hours of landing in New York, Alexander’s plans had fallen to pieces. 

It had taken over an hour to clear customs, including twenty minutes during which the border agent had interrogated him about his visa and his motives. He spent another hour at baggage claim before his battered black suitcase was finally spat out onto the conveyor belt with the lock missing and the zip part open. By the time he dragged himself down to the train station, he was near tears.

It was not the glorious arrival Alexander had hoped for. He had expected to answer questions about his visa, yes: but not the same questions repeatedly, all while a stocky white man with very little neck watched him like a criminal. Even if he had expected it, nothing could have prepared him for the combination of fear and bone-deep exhaustion. It had settled into the back of his mind, numbing his thoughts and his temper. The fear may well have saved him. It kept him from complaining and protesting as the interrogation dragged on and on.

He had expected to wait a long time for his luggage, too: but he hadn’t expected to open it up and find a politely worded note reminding him the TSA had been through his belongings. It explained where the lock had gone. It also explained why the contents of his suitcase were now a jumbled mess. Most countries had the decency to be discreet when they searched suitcases - but then, discretion had never been the USA's strong point. 

His spirits picked up a little on the train ride. The train was crowded and hot and smelly, but it was also _New York_. As he got further and further from the airport, he recognized more and more of the station names. His heart skipped a beat when they passed through Queens. It was not until they reached Brooklyn that Alexander realized he was gawping. He forced himself to adopt a cool, dispassionate mask. His suitcase may mark him out as an outsider, but he would be damned if his behaviour did. This was Alexander’s new home. He would learn to fit in. He fought back his amazement and glee, careful to maintain a neutral expression.

Grand Central station was like a maze. Alexander weaved in and out between the crowds filling the station until he found his platform. His connection had left two minutes ago, so he waited fifteen minutes for the next one. The second train ride was blissfully short. The trip from JFK had taken over an hour, but just ten minutes passed before Alexander reached his destination and left the subway. It was a small station, small enough that Alexander could see the stairs from the platform. He could also see the puddles forming at the bottom of the steps, and the dismayed look of passengers who had been caught in the rain. Alexander’s optimistic mood vanished. 

With no umbrella and no idea where he was going, he dragged his suitcase up the stairs. Every time he went up a level and further into the rain, he cursed. It was not until he reached the top of the stairs and looked around that he felt a surge of panic.

New York was huge.

Objectively, Alexander had known that. It was one of the reasons he had been so excited to come. Alexander had been raised in the city. He disdained cities with less than a few million occupants, thinking them little better than oversized country towns. But New York was more than twice that, and packed with skyscrapers as far as the eye could see. His mind whirled. So many people here, and Alexander knew not a single one of them. 

With the rain pelting down around him, Alexander did not have long to wonder. He pulled himself together and set off down the street. The university itself was only a short walk from the station, but the residential colleges were on the other side of campus. He trudged through narrow alleyways and past elaborate buildings covered in green ivy. It should have thrilled him, but Alexander was too disgruntled to take pleasure in the atmosphere. 

By the time Alexander reached the college, it had been four hours since he had left the plane. He was tired, and sore, and he wanted nothing more than a square meal, a hot shower and an early night. His new life could start tomorrow. And then Alexander met his final challenge.

The door was locked.

Alexander let out a scream of frustration. He pounded his fist against the door. When that got no answer, he slammed his forehead against it and choked back a sob. This was everything he had wanted. He had worked himself half to death to get his scholarship. He had sacrificed luxuries and friendship and even his own health, and this was his reward. A locked door and foul weather. 

Not knowing what else to do, Alexander sat on the step in the rain. He knew he needed to make plans, but his brain had switched off. If he considered what to do next, he had to think about his situation and acknowledge all the things that could still do wrong. That was beyond Alexander entirely. So he sat, and thought only occasionally about hostels and wifi access.

After a few minutes, a grey sedan rolled up and parked in front of the college. A black umbrella left the car first and folded out. The driver stepped out of the car and under his umbrella in one smooth movement, not getting even a single drop of rain on his person. Alexander tried not to glare. The stranger may have nothing to do with him, but the way he made life look so effortless felt like a slap in the face. Instead of glaring, Alexander tried to list things he had that the stranger did not. It was more difficult than it should have been. There was intelligence, obviously (Alexander had learnt long ago no one could compete with his brain), and size. The stranger was shorter than Alexander with a slender build. That was where his advantages ran out. The man had confidence and money, and he did not even have the decency to be ugly.

It was only when the stranger started to approach him that Alexander realized he was staring. He flustered, but it was too late to pretend he had been doing otherwise. Sheer stubbornness kept him staring at the stranger. The man stopped a few steps ahead of him and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

Alexander jerked a thumb in the direction of the college. “Door’s locked.”

The man looked him up and down. His eyes lingered on Alexander’s scuffed shoes and the ragged edges of his hoodie before finally settling on his bedraggled hair. “You’re a new student?”

At Alexander’s nod, he sighed. Without saying a word, he stepped to the side and past Alexander. While Alexander watched, he produced a key and unlocked the doors. Alexander sat and stared. The stranger stepped through the doors and looked back at him.

“Are you coming?”

“Yes, sir,” Alexander blurted. He scrambled after him, grabbing his suitcase as he went. He banged the case against the door as he rushed in, but it did not occur to him to be embarrassed by his clumsiness. He was too busy cursing himself for the ‘sir’ that had slipped out. 

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir’. You can call me Aaron.”

“Alexander Hamilton,” Alexander said. He stuck out his hand. Water dripped from his fingers, but Aaron only hesitated a second before shaking it. 

“New students aren’t supposed to arrive until Wednesday,” Aaron told him. Alexander’s expression fell.

“But I emailed the coordinator, he said - “

Aaron’s sudden laugh cut him off. Alexander’s jaw snapped shut. He glared at Aaron, hoping the venom in the expression made it clear that Alexander would not tolerate being laughed at.

“I should have guessed,” Aaron said. “College admin are useless.”

Aaron pulled out a card and pressed it against a grey box. The box let out a happy beep, and the second set of doors opened up. As he stepped through, Alexander was greeted by a wave of warmth. He let out a sigh of content. He may be stuck with the most puzzling man he had ever met, but at least he was warm. Now that he was inside, Alexander took the opportunity to examine the building. The two front doors led to a small entrance hall. A set of stairs lay straight ahead, and every surface seemed to be made out of the same dark wood. The walls were hung with portraits of past leaders and students. Two corridors sat opposite each other at the far end of the hall, presumably leading to the accommodation. Aaron paid attention to none of it. He made a beeline for the small, unstaffed reception desk to Alexander’s left. He let himself into the reception area as if he belonged there.

“This will take a while. The computers here are ancient,” he said. His head disappeared under the desk, presumably to turn the computer on. The wheels on Alexander’s bag squeaked against the floor as he shuffled closer to the reception. The more time he spent with Aaron, the less he understood. He dressed like a professional of some kind, and he certainly acted like he owned the place, but Alexander refused to believe he could be a day above twenty. 

While Alexander watched, Aaron typed in a username (not his own, Alexander noted: a generic admin username) and brought up a list of incoming students. He found Alexander’s name halfway down the list. From there, he found his room number and a few cursory details about Alexander himself.

“Alright. Smile.”

“What?” 

“I told you. Smile.”

Baffled, Alexander did. Quick as a flash, Aaron snapped a photo. He tapped a button on his phone, and a bulky machine in the corner rattled to life.

“That’s going to be your pass,” Aaron told him. “Meet me by the hall once it’s done. I’m going to get my things.”

Aaron lingered for a few more seconds as he picked out a key from a large box, and then he was gone. Alexander glared at his back as he left. He could have at least given Alexander some warning before snapping his photo, or better yet, let him shower first. Alexander shuddered to think how he must look in the photo. Jet lag had taken its toll, rendering the dark circles under his eyes even deeper than usual. His hair was greasy, and there was little chance his smile had looked anything other than pained. When the printer finally spat out his ID, he grabbed it without looking. 

As promised, Aaron was waiting for him in the main hall. He stood towards the back. Like Alexander, he had with him a large black suitcase. Unlike Alexander’s, Aaron’s suitcase was solid and undented, and not one of the wheels rattled when he pulled it behind him. Alexander wondered how much it had cost, then pushed the thought out of his head.

“Got your ID?”

At Alexander’s nod, Aaron turned and walked down the nearest corridor. Alexander followed close on his heel. On their right, the walls were lined with doors. The left wall was primarily made up of windows, opening up onto a green courtyard. The pair walked down one arm of the building, then turned down the next, following the diamond shape around. As they walked, Aaron said,

“You’re lucky I showed up. No one else with admin access is due to arrive until tomorrow.”

“So that’s what you are? Admin?”

Aaron shook his head. “I’m a student. After my second year, I volunteered to help out with orientation. They call it the Buddy Program..“

“Buddy program?” Alexander echoed, his voice dripping with skepticism. Aaron snorted.

“I didn’t come up with the name. Have you heard of RAs?”

Alexander nodded hesitantly. The term was familiar, but he had only the vaguest idea of what they did.

“This program is similar, although nowhere near as serious. You won’t find us running security or writing reports, but we’re here to help new students. You’ll see a lot of us through orientation. After that, you only have to talk to us if you need help.”

The corridor they were following ended at a set of stairs, but at the last minute Aaron turned off and led them into a communal space. After the luxury of the entrance hall, the communal space was a shock. The carpet was grey, although it was hard to tell if it had always been that colour. It was old and stained enough that the original design could have been anything. The walls were a combination of plaster and exposed brick too drab to be trendy, and instead of portraits, the walls were lined with posters reminding students of basic college rules. There was plenty of seating in the room, with couches and bean bags generally grouped into circles. One corner of the room had plastic flooring instead of carpet, forming the kitchenette part of the communal space. Two refrigerators hummed loudly, and three microwaves blinked three different times across the room. The only word to describe it was ‘depressing’. Alexander could only hope it would get better as students began to arrive.

They left the common area behind and entered a second corridor, this one lined with brown doors. As they walked, Aaron pointed out the laundry room and bathrooms. At the far end of the corridor, the wall sloped diagonally before turning a corner. The door built into the diagonal wall was Aaron’s room, and where Alexander should go if he had any questions. About halfway down the hall, Aaron came to a halt. He unlocked the nearest door and stepped through into the room.

“Normally we’d make you wait until your roommate arrived to fight over who got which bed, but we can make an exception in this case. Welcome home.”

Alexander stepped into the room. It was larger than he had expected, even for a shared room. There was room to squeeze in two tiny desks between the two single beds pressed up against each wall. At the foot of each bed, there was a cupboard and a sink. It was far from luxurious, but it was no worse than any other places Alexander had lived. After examining the two mattresses, Alexander chose the one on the left. It had more stains, but there was no visible bump in it. 

“Sheets aren’t due to be delivered until tomorrow, but I can lend you my spare set. Just before to wash them before you return them. There’s no meal service until Wednesday, either, but I’ll be ordering a pizza at six. Come find me if you’re hungry then.”

Alexander nodded. It was only when Aaron left that he let himself sit down and stare at the wall. The past several hours seemed to repeat before his eyes, each awkward and uncomfortable moment vying for attention. After several minutes, he pulled himself out of it enough to unpack. He was too exhausted to unpack entirely, but he did pull out his toiletries and a change of clothes.

The bathrooms were covered in beige tiles that looks like they had been there since the 70’s, but the shower cubicle had enough space for Alexander to take his things in with him. Even better, the water was gloriously hot. Alexander turned the temperature up as high as it could go and let the pressure of the water hammer his back. He stood there for several minutes, letting the water slowly bring him back to life. Alexander took his time in the shower. He washed his hair and scrubbed until he no longer felt dried out from the plane. 

When Alexander returned to his room, he found a stack of sheets had been left outside the door. On top of the sheets sat a handwritten note, where Aaron had left him his number and detailed washing instructions for the sheets. The sheets were soft to touch and absolutely free of wrinkles, suggesting someone had taken the time to iron them. 

At six o’clock, Alexander made his way down the hall to Aaron’s room. It took a few moments for Aaron to open the door, but when he did, it was with a smile. 

“Come in, take a seat. Pizza menu is on the table. I’m sorry about the mess - I’m just moving in.”

Alexander peered over his shoulder. The first thing he noticed was that the room contained not a single bed. Aaron’s quarters consisted of not one room, but four. The main room formed a living space lined with bookshelves and tasteful art prints. The area closest to the door held a kitchenette consisting of a fridge, a microwave, and even a two-burner stove. Beyond that lay the main communal area, with two couches arranged around a television, and large windows that looked over the sports field. Alexander tried to keep the jealousy out of his expression. He must have failed, because Aaron chuckled.

“Perks of volunteering. The other guy helping out will get that room,” Aaron said, pointing to the locked door. “It’s the only reason anyone volunteers. We’re on call all semester for any student that needs help. Some semesters it’s chaos. I’m hoping this year is going to be a quiet one.”

“Define ‘chaos’,” Alexander said. He took a seat at the kitchen table. It was small, only just large enough to fit chairs around it, but Alexander was still green with envy. Aaron shrugged. He walked back to the nearest cardboard box and started unpacking. As he did so, he rattled off a list of incidents.

“Last year someone vomited in the washing machine, and someone else ended up sleeping with their tutor. It was a quiet year. And there’s always someone who ends up dating their roommate. I’ve never seen one of those relationships last more than a year.”

“What counts as a bad year?" 

“If I told you that, you’d have too much blackmail against me.”

Aaron grinned. The expression was a little off-centre, but Alexander found he liked the way the crooked grin lit up Aaron’s eyes. For the first time, Alexander noticed he liked how Aaron looked. No matter how serious he pretended to be, there was a spark of mischief in his eyes that Alexander found himself unable to ignore. As soon as the revelation came, Alexander shoved it aside. He was here for college, not for pretty boys with dark brown eyes.

No matter how much Alexander begged, whined, and threatened, Aaron would not budge. He refused to tell Alexander what he had done to make his first year at university so dreadful. Whenever he asked, he redirected Alexander to the menu. His distraction worked for a few minutes as Alexander placed the order (vegetarian for Aaron, Hawaiian for Alexander), but after that Alexander returned to pestering him. To Aaron’s credit, he handled Alexander’s interrogation with remarkable patience. It was not until the pizza arrived that he said,

“Frankly, Alexander, you have bigger problems to worry about than my past. Out of all the possible ingredients, you put pineapple on your pizza? Really?”

“You’re being a snob,” Alexander countered. He watched Aaron’s eyes flash at the challenge, and the debate was on. They argued all through dinner. It was not until they both started yawning that they broke the debate off. Despite their fiery disagreement, Aaron told Alexander to stop by for breakfast the next morning. It was possible the offer was only out of obligation, but Alexander liked to think otherwise. He liked Aaron’s sense of humour, even if it was different to his own. Aaron had even kept up with him in a debate, something very few people could claim to do. And after the day Alexander had had, it was a comfort to think at least one person in this country had his back. 

Alexander woke three times in the night. Each time he stared at the strange shadows of his room with his heart pounding in fear, until recognition calmed him. He fell back asleep easily each time, soothing himself with the reminder that this was his new home. 

The next morning, he returned to Aaron’s room for breakfast. Breakfast consisted of nothing more than cereal and coffee, but Alexander was more than happy with that. As Alexander ate, he watched Aaron unpack a box full of books. The textbooks were all about the law and government, and Alexander itched to get his hands on them. After the textbooks came novels of every description. Alexander squinted from his seat at the table, trying to read the titles. The vast majority of books were from authors Alexander had never heard of, and there seemed to be no sensible theme linking them. Most of the books were paperbacks, but there was one shelf dedicated to a series of hardback novels that looked like they cost more than all Alexander’s possessions combined.

After breakfast, the two parted ways - Aaron to do some shopping, and Alexander to explore the city. His first stop was a phone store, where he picked up a local SIM card for his phone. He may not have anyone to text, but he did need the internet. The other option for navigating New York was to buy a tourist map, and Alexander shuddered at the very thought. He’d rather walk the streets lost than mark himself out as a stranger. Once he had everything he needed, he took the subway down to the financial district. He wandered the streets with as much greed as awe in his eyes. One day, he promised himself, one day he would earn his place here. But even as he did so, he could not ignore the signs that all was not as perfect as it seemed. When he looked past the gleaming buildings of marble and glass, he saw signs of discord: protestors, homelessness, and police harassing people for either crime. The sight made Alexander’s stomach churn. He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the skyscrapers and his dream.

For lunch he tracked down an American franchise, one that hadn’t yet made it across the sea. The food seemed astoundingly cheap. It was not until he went to pay that he remembered tax, and tipping, and quickly revised his order accordingly. Despite that mistake, his lunch was cheap and filling, the two main things he had hoped for. The meal was not memorable, but it satisfied his curiosity. 

Another train took him north to Central Park, where he spent two hours wandering about. Central Park had not been at the top of his list of attractions, but it was one of the few time sensitive ones. The weather was warm, but the seasons were changing. Alexander had no idea how long it would take for autumn to feel like winter, and Alexander hated the cold. If he did not visit Central Park before then, he would not visit before the new year.

He returned to college in the late afternoon and began unpacking properly. Just one large suitcase held all his belongings. As uncomfortable as the thought made him feel, it did make the move to the U.S. far easier on him. His clothes filled only half his narrow closet. After trying and failing to organize his desk, he turned the shelving system in his closet into a space for his notes. The empty suitcase he slipped under the bed, along with his flip-flops, swimwear, and other things he would not need until spring.

By the time Alexander had everything sorted to his satisfaction, evening had started to fall. After a few minutes of internal debate, Alexander made his way down the hall to Aaron’s apartment. He hesitated at the door. Not only had he not been invited, he could hear music coming from inside. The music was upbeat and lively, with enough of a rhythm that it made Alexander want to dance. The music choice struck Alexander as odd. In their 24 hours of acquaintance, Alexander had formed a clear picture of Aaron Burr in his mind, and that picture left no room for dancing. Curiosity outweighed Alexander’s uncertainty, and he knocked. The door was answered not by Aaron, but by a man nearly twice his size. The stranger filled the entire doorway. His brows pinched together in confusion, but Alexander could see no signs of suspicion or annoyance. 

“I’m looking for Aaron.”

The man’s expression broke into a smile. He stepped aside and gestured for Alexander to enter. “Come in. You must be Alexander. Burr’s out, but he mentioned you might stop by. I’m Hercules.”

“Are you also part of the... buddy thing?” Alexander asked. Try as he might, he could not keep the skepticism out of his voice. Fortunately, Hercules did not seem to be offended. He laughed and slapped Alexander on the back. 

“I am. This is my second year, and owning up to the name doesn’t get any easier the second time around. And O-Week is always a bitch.”

“O-Week?”

“Orientation,” Hercules said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll love it. It’s a week long party for you, while Burr and I make sure everyone gets through in one piece. Burr’s not going to cope. Poor kid doesn’t even know how much vomit he’s going to be cleaning up.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Hercules regaled Alexander with stories of past students. Each story seemed to involve a new level of stupidity. By the time Aaron opened the door, Alexander was doubled over with laughter. His amusement faded when he looked at Aaron. His lips were set into a firm line bordering on a frown, and there was a new tension in his shoulders. 

“Have fun shopping?” Hercules asked him. His tone was entirely too cheerful for this comment to be innocent. The glare Aaron sent him in response confirmed Alexanders suspicion that something was amiss. Aaron carried several bags into the room, setting them down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. As he unpacked, Alexander stared. Several of the bags were full of sweets, while others contained craft supplies like pipe cleaners and glitter glue. There were several stacks of paper of different sizes, which Aaron organized neatly on the table. Last of all was an entire bag of condoms. Hercules’ laughter grew louder and louder as Aaron unpacked box after box.

“Quit laughing and make yourself useful.”

“I’ll order food. Alexander, any requests?”

“We’ll cover your meal if you help us with these welcome kits,” Aaron offered. Alexander accepted the offer, insisting he’d eat anything they ordered. He joined Aaron on the ground in front of the coffee table, staring at the assembled supplies. For every incoming student (Alexander included) they were to put together a welcome pack. They set up an assembly line. Aaron attached the nametag and added miscellaneous gifts like chocolate, various brightly coloured objects, pens, and condoms. Alexander added all the printouts students would need. The printouts covered everything from the O-week schedule to how to read laundry instructions. Once done, Alexander ticked the student’s name off the list and set the bag aside. Hercules checked each bag, making sure they had missed nothing. 

They took a break when the food arrived. Hercules got them each a beer, and the topic turned to Alexander’s day of tourism. Both Hercules and Aaron were locals, and neither of them seemed impressed by Alexander’s itinerary. Hercules could not understand why he had spent the morning in the financial district. Aaron’s main concern was that he had not visited a single museum, although his disapproval was quieter. He did not outright insult Alexander, but he did raise an eyebrow. The rest of his expression gave nothing away, and he made several polite enquiries about what Alexander had enjoyed most. 

After dinner they returned to packing the welcome kits. It was nearly midnight by the time they had packaged up all the bags, and both Aaron and Hercules seemed tired. Alexander was not. Whether it was jet lag or sheer excitement, Alexander was practically bouncing in his seat. He pestered Aaron and Hercules for information about their lives, eager to learn everything he could about his new friends. It was an easy task with Hercules. By the end of the night, Alexander knew his birthday, his favourite food, the names of all his siblings, and a great many of his political opinions. In the same time, Aaron confessed to being an orphan. That was the sum total of the information Alexander managed to pull out of him, and even that was with Hercules’ help. When not answering Alexander’s questions, Hercules spent most of the evening teasing Aaron. Most of it Aaron handled with good grace, but his tone turned snappish whenever Hercules brought up his age. Unfortunately for Aaron, Hercules found this hilarious.

“You teenagers are all the same.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“Eigh _teen_ ,” Hercules said with delight, emphasising the ‘teen’ part of the word. “You’re just a baby.”

“Wait,” Alexander said, staring at Aaron with open envy. “You’re only eighteen? But you’ve been here for two years. How did you convince them to let you start early?”

“I did well in school,” Aaron said. A moment later, Hercules added,

“His parents left the university a lot of money when they died.”

Whether or not the words were true, Alexander expected Aaron to snap at the words. It was what he would have done. But when he looked at Aaron, his expression was perfectly neutral. There was no hint of a smile, but nor did he look like he was simmering with rage. It was not until he spoke that he gave away his offense. His voice was ice cold, and hard enough that it sent a shiver down Alexander’s spine.

“I would remind you of my accomplishments since arriving, but I’m sure those are all because I’m the spoiled little orphan, too.”

“Fuck,” Hercules grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” Aaron said. “You shouldn’t.”

An awkward silence followed. Neither Aaron nor Hercules seemed inclined to break it. Silence had never been something Alexander coped well with, and he squirmed with discomfort. After a few moments, he blurted.

“I’m an orphan. People use it as an excuse to ignore me, but they won’t be able to for long. They’ll see we’re worth more than anyone bargained for.”

The words sounded childish to Alexander as soon as they were out of his mouth. More words threatened to bubble up, but he shut his mouth and forced them down. His stomach churned with sudden nausea. Even if he thought the words were childish, Alexander dreaded the thought that Hercules or Aaron might agree. He braced himself for an argument - but none came. Hercules looked awkward. Aaron smiled, the expression warm and friendly and fake.

“Being underestimated is vexing, but it can be an advantage if you learn how to use it. Most people don’t think to look past the surface.”

“I get it, I get it, I fucked up,” Hercules said. More of Aaron’s teeth showed as he smiled.

“I’ll forget this happened - if you get me another beer.”

As Hercules fetched three beers from the fridge, Alexander took the opportunity to examine Aaron more closely. Yes, Aaron was smiling, but Alexander was not fooled. If Aaron were half as smart as Alexander suspected him to be, there would be no chance he had forgiven Hercules. Only an idiot would forget an insult so quickly. But no matter how hard Alexander looked, he could see no signs of dishonesty in Aaron’s face. His smile was bright, and there was no tension around his eyes. There was only one conclusion Alexander could draw: Aaron was a very good liar. It was a lesson he would be careful not to forget. Aaron was charming, and friendly, and it would be all too easy to underestimate him. Whether they ended up as friends or rivals, Alexander had no doubt that underestimating Aaron Burr would be a grave mistake.


	2. Orientation

Two beers were not enough to give Alexander a hangover, but he woke the next morning with a headache nonetheless. He joined Hercules and Aaron for breakfast again the next morning. It would be their last such breakfast together, and Alexander felt a pang of regret at the idea this may be the last time he was invited into their private space. 

While Hercules and Aaron prepared the entrance and main hall to welcome the students, Alexander prepared his room. He had never been proud of any home he had had, but for the first time, he would be judged by it. His roommate (whomever he was) would judge him by this space. Alexander did what he could to make the room clean and tidy. He made sure his sparse belongings were all on his side of the room, and opened the window a crack to let in some fresh air. He swapped out Aaron’s sheets for the ones provided by the college and tried not to notice how much rougher they were. 

The students started arriving at 10 AM. They trickled in one by one, but none of them alone. Alexander took up residence in a corner with a cup of coffee and watched them pour in. Everyone, it seemed, had someone. For a while, he made a game of guessing if a student’s escort was made up of parents or siblings or aunts and uncles. He kept the game up until he decided it was pathetic of him to think so much about families, and his mood abruptly soured. He took a break to get another coffee and returned to his corner. Instead of watching families, he watched Aaron and Hercules. Along with two girls who shared their role, they greeted every family that came through the door. Despite his relative youth and inexperience, Aaron was the one they directed difficult parents to. The same pattern played out over and over. The families would approach Aaron with skepticism, their expressions openly hostile. There was no fault any reasonable person could find with him - his manners were impeccable, his clothing neat and professional, and his smile warm and welcoming - but that rarely stopped them from inventing some complaint. They would insist _something_ was not good enough for their precious son or daughter. Every time, Aaron made sympathetic noises and reassured them everything would be fine. He lost count of how many times Aaron was forced to repeat himself. There was no sign of his frustration in his actions, and Alexander wondered how he kept himself under such tight control. Alexander would not have lasted half as long in his position.

At noon, Hercules broke away from the crowds for lunch. He disappeared into his apartment, leaving the other three senior students on duty. He did not return until twelve thirty, at which point one of the girls disappeared. At one o’clock, it was Aaron’s turn. To Alexander’s surprise, he returned just a minute later, joining Alexander in his corner. The two sat in silence. They shared two sandwiches and a bag of crisps between them, neither of them saying a word. Alexander was not usually fond of silence, but this one felt comfortable, almost companionable. 

Both of them looked up when a figure arrived in the doorway alone. The newcomer was a man, taller than average and pulling two large suitcases behind him. He marched straight through the center of the hall with his head held high. Most of the new students scurried about and looked around anxiously, but this one walked in as if he owned the place. Hercules pulled him aside, and within minutes they were having a lively conversation. His voice was loud enough that Alexander could hear most of what he said, and more than once he found himself laughing at the stranger’s theatrics. His willingness to be amused may have had something to do with the fact that the stranger had arrived alone: some of the tightness in Alexander’s chest eased at the idea there might be others like him.

By two o’clock, the last of the students had arrived. The so-called Buddies shepherded them into the great hall. The walls were lined with portraits of esteemed alumni, and the ceiling stretched high over their heads. At the far end of the hall was a set of stained glass windows, a throwback to the college’s days as a religious institution and beautiful enough to have survived decades of renovation. Beneath the windows was a projector, and it was there the senior students gathered. Alexander took a seat near the front of the hall, and slowly the seats around him filled with his fellow students.

Despite Alexander’s excitement, the afternoon passed slowly. It began with speeches: first from high-ranking staff, then from the senior students as they took over the program. They were told the history of the college, and its rules, and what would be expected of them. Three full hours passed before the talks ended. It was only then they were permitted to get down to the business Alexander was most anxious about: meeting their fellow students. They played half a dozen ice-breaker games before they were told to look in their welcome kits for a puzzle piece. It took Alexander only a few seconds to find his. It was a big, chunky thing made of bright blue and yellow plastic. Around him, students took out similar objects in a whole rainbow of colours. Each piece, they were told, was half of a set. The other half was held by their roommate, and the task of the game was to find them. Alexander raised an eyebrow and Aaron and Hercules as he walked past them. This entire game was ridiculous. He did not say as much in words, but his face must have said enough, because he got a response. 

“We know,” Aaron said, his smile not budging an inch. “It’s a college tradition.”

“Try over there,” Hercules said, pointing to the other side of the room. That was a much more helpful response, so Alexander gave him a nod of thanks before he crossed the room. Squirming through the crowd took time. He was not tall or broad enough for the crowd to part before him, and people kept trying to see if his piece matched theirs. Each time someone approached him with a similar piece, Alexander felt anxiety winding up in his chest. He was disappointed not to be put with the tall, handsome man who had come all alone, but he nearly laughed with relief when he dodged an angry looking man with bad facial hair and a peculiar smell. 

As he approached the other side of the hall, Alexander heard the telltale sound of an argument. It took only a few moments to pinpoint the source. There was Smelly, bickering with a man Alexander had not yet met. They at least had the sense to keep their voices down as they bickered, but the stranger’s voice grew louder and louder with each passing moment. He gestured angrily as he talked. Alexander watched his hands fly through the air, and after a few moments he noticed the blue and gold puzzle piece in his left hand. That was how he and Smelly had met, then, although the argument was still a mystery. Alexander edged closer. As he advanced, he began to hear occasional fragments of the argument. The word ‘homophobic’ came up a few times, and “fucking asshole” seemed to be even more frequent. Once near the pair, the stranger rounded on Alexander. He gestured at Smelly and asked,

“Can you believe that this fucking asshole - “

“I have a name!”

“ - _asshole_ , I said, and I meant it - anyway, can you believe he tried to argue when I said I wouldn’t share with him? We’re not even meant to be in the same room, he’s just annoyed his roommate is French.”

“And loud, and obnoxious, and likely -”

“Shut the fuck up,” Alexander said. He may have spoken to the man for all of five minutes, but he was certain he didn’t want to hear what he had to say. The last thing he wanted was to get kicked out for fighting on the first day. The stranger arguing with him said,

“Yes, and probably gay as fuck, but he’s also got eyes and a brain, so there’s no chance of him taking an interest in you. Quit being such a fucking asshole.”

Alexander gave a snort of laughter. The stranger grinned at him and stuck out a hand.

“I’m John Laurens.”

“Alexander Hamilton,” Alexander said. He lifted up his oversized puzzle piece and waved it. To his delight, Laurens’ face lit up. Their puzzle pieces fit together perfectly. Instead of the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm Alexander with every other potential roommate, he felt a rush of relief. He knew every little about John Laurens, but what he knew seemed promising. He had been willing to start a fight over something that mattered within hours of arriving, something that was a credit to his moral fibre and either bravery or foolishness. Alexander preferred to think it was the former.

When dinner came, Alexander and Laurens sat together. It quickly became apparent that their lives and goals were very different - and yet, despite the differences, the two became fast friends. They were quick to agree on things that mattered. On matters of morals, politics and justice they were perfectly aligned, and Alexander delighted in having found an American friend who would not hesitate to criticize his country. They were both passionate, with a tendency to get into arguments. And to Alexander’s amazement, Laurens seemed to like him. He was quick to laugh at Alexander’s jokes, and nodded along eagerly whenever Alexander began laying out an argument. When Laurens spoke, Alexander found himself charmed by his openness and passion. He did not have Alexander’s genius, but then, Alexander had yet to meet anyone who did. He did not need Laurens to be an intellectual equal, not when everything else seemed so promising.

Upon retiring to their room, they found Laurens’ belongings had been left by the door. He seemed pleased with the room, although from what Laurens had said of his family, Alexander suspected it was much smaller than what he was used to. While Laurens unpacked, Alexander lay on his bed and spoke candidly about his plans. Laurens mostly listened. When he did interject with an anecdote of his own, Alexander found he didn’t mind. The two of them stayed awake talking late into the night. Even when Laurens began to snore, Alexander could not stop a light and bubbly feeling from filling up his chest. He had hoped that his roommate would be tolerable. Now, he dared hope that they might be friends.

Alexander rose early the next morning. It was not necessarily his preference, but both Hercules and Aaron had advised him of the advantages of showering before his fellow students. The bathroom was blissfully quiet when he entered. By the time Alexander had showered, all but one of the shower stalls was occupied. When Laurens lurched out of bed thirty minutes later, there was a queue outside the bathroom door. They exchanged grimaces as they passed in the hallway, but Alexander did not linger. He could smell breakfast cooking, and the implied promise of coffee was enough to overcome his desire to talk more with his roommate. 

After breakfast (and coffee) came the day’s scheduled activities. The morning was filled with more talks, although these sessions were far more interesting than the previous day’s. The day started with a talk on respect. Alexander was surprised to see Aaron deliver the lecture, given his reticence to talk about himself. Passionate was not quite the right word to describe him, but there was conviction, and eloquence, and authority to back up his words. Harassment would not be tolerated. Students could be expelled for poor behaviour, especially behaviour that hurt their fellow students. Aaron had seen it happen before, he told them; he hoped they would not make him see it again. It was not a lighthearted topic, but Alexander found himself smiling as he listened to Aaron nonetheless. It helped that Aaron had a nice voice, cool and smooth in a way that did funny things to Alexander’s insides. As pleasant as it was, there was a note of steel to Aaron's words Alexander could not ignore. He was not just reciting college rules. This seemed to be something he took seriously.

Aaron’s talk was followed by morning tea. The coffee was dreadful, but it was also free, so Alexander gulped it down like a man dying from thirst. Morning tea was followed by another guest speaker: this time, an external contractor brought in to teach them basic sex ed.

“Is this necessary?” Alexander asked Laurens in a whisper. Laurens shrugged and said he went to a Baptist school, which was apparently all the information he thought Alexander needed. By the end of the talk, Alexander had to begrudgingly admit he had learnt things. The session had put a great deal of emphasis on consent, as well as covering safer sex practices for a wide variety of sexual acts. Condoms seemed obvious to Alexander, but he had never thought about dental dams for when he performed oral sex for his female partners. In retrospect, a barrier made perfect esnse tehre, too. In addition to listening to the talk, Alexander found himself watching his fellow students. Some seemed embarrassed, or amused. Laurens was listening intently, and Alexander realized he really did need to learn this. His favourite person to watch as Aaron. He did not seem embarrassed, but nor was he laughing or disengaging from the session. He listened with an expression of polite interest, as though this talk were no different than any of the others they had heard.

The afternoon proved to be far more entertaining than the morning. Instead of inflicting more talks on them, the college had set up a competition. The games were all chosen for two players, with each roommate pair acting as a team. A grin spread across Alexander’s face. When he looked over at Laurens, he looked similarly delighted at the challenge. The two of them swept to victory in every round from the three-legged race to pictionary. 

The rest of the week followed in a similar suit. Mornings were given to serious topics as the new students were instructed on everything from social interactions to good study habits. The afternoons were for more frivolous activities. As fun as they were, the games had the practical purpose of introducing the students to one another. By the end of the week, Alexander learnt that the man who he had found bickering with Laurens was Charles Lee, and his French roommate answered only to Lafayette. Lafayette seemed as dismayed by the situation as Charles had. He complained loudly and bitterly at every opportunity, begging Hercules to let him move to another room. No matter how much he pleaded, Hercules would not budge. 

“I would hate him for it, were he not so handsome,” Lafayette confessed one night. Alexander snorted, and John laughed outright. Their laughter attracted stares from those around them, but none of them worried about privacy. Through sheer luck, they had discovered all three of them spoke fluent French. It had taken them all of a day to learn to abuse. The trio used it to gossip and joke with each other at inappropriate times, safe in the knowledge no one could understand them. 

“Is that why you’ve been copying everything he does?”

“I am trying to learn American culture,” Lafayette said. 

Laurens and Alexander exchanged a look. Neither of them believed Lafayette’s lie for a second. They took turns pointing out other people Lafayette could have imitated or observed, and Lafayette had an answer waiting for each. It quickly became a game. Instead of trying to get Lafayette to confess, they tried to draw the most entertaining reaction they could. Suggesting Charles Lee brought forth a dramatic shudder; any other of their acquaintances came with a withering look. The game did not stop until John jokingly suggested Aaron. Both Lafayette and Alexander grimaced, albeit for entirely different reasons. Lafayette did not trust Aaron. He saw his patience as suspicious and took his polite smile as a personal insult. Alexander, meanwhile, was rapidly developing a case of hero-worship mixed with envy. In Alexander’s mind, Aaron had many of the same traits as Alexander. If he could succeed, then surely Alexander could too - and if anyone could help him, it would be Aaron. The reminder that some people disliked Aaron for such petty reasons awoke his fears about he was perceived. He liked even less that Lafayette did not bother to time his complaints for when Aaron was not around. He spoke freely in French in front of him, and was barely civil in English.

On the Friday of orientation week, the students were gathered up and herded onto a large bus. They were taken on a whirlwind tour of the city, highlighting not just tourist spots but places where they could get cheap food, good coffee, and student-friendly nightlife. As the afternoon waned, the bus trundled out of Manhattan and into more industrial areas of New York. 

“Like the rest of the week, we’re closing today with a game,” Hercules announced. “Every year, we host a laser tag competition.”

He was forced to pause at the resulting cheers from the announcement. When the celebration died down, he held up a golden trophy. The target was not merely to shoot each other: they were to retrieve the trophy from the centre of a maze. They would work in four teams, led by each of the four senior students. Whichever team won would get their team name and leader’s name engraved on the trophy, in addition to an obscene amount of candy. Once the bus came to a halt, the students were split into their four teams and entered a warehouse through four different doors. The cup was to be placed in the middle of the warehouse. Between them and their prize lay a maze riddled with traps and dead ends - and, of course, the opposing teams. 

With Hercules in charge, it did not take long for Lafayette to secure a place as chief advisor. He walked around the waiting room with confidence. Most people looked a little foolish with their vests and plastic guns, but Lafayette seemed entirely at ease. 

“Monsieur Hercules,” Lafayette called out. Both Laurens and Alexander snickered when they saw Hercules jump and quickly calm himself. The first time Lafayette had called Hercules Monsieur was a joke, but Hercules’ reaction had ensured the nickname became permanent. 

Once he had Hercules attention, Lafayette outlined what he believed to be the best plan of attack. It was a thorough plan. He gesticulated as he talked, indicating where he thought different team members should move. By the end, Hercules was beaming. It was more complex than what he had suggested, but even Alexander saw the advantage of the extra components. Every piece had its part to play. While most of the team would focus on hindering the opposition, Alexander and Laurens were to make their way to the centre of the maze. 

“You will have to be fast,” Lafayette told them. “We are lucky you will not need extraction. All you must do is reach the prize.”

“We can do that,” Alexander said. Laurens nodded beside him. Alexander was by far the smartest on the team, and Laurens had a kind of grim determination none of the others could muster. They would stand the best chance of victory. Moreover, the pair had become inseparable over the course of a week: trying to send them in different directions would be more trouble than it was worth.

Within the maze, everything was dark. The walls were little more than shadows, except for where bright flashing lights put on a dizzying and distracting display. Alexander ignored it. Adrenaline rushed through his system; he could feel his blood roaring through his veins. Now that he was in the midst of the challenge, all he cared about was winning. He clapped Laurens on the shoulder before taking off towards the centre of the maze. It was more challenging than Alexander had anticipated. Many of the routes led to dead ends, and more than once he and Laurens stumbled right into a trap. Every time they did, their vests beeped at them angrily. Each vest came with a health bar: if it hit zero, they were disqualified.

Nearly thirty minutes passed before they met any opposition. They escaped once, then twice, laughing as they bolted down the halls. It was not until they met their opponents a third time that they remembered there were consequences. Laurens’ jacket gave a warning beep as a laser caught him in the chest, warning him he was only one or two shots away from disqualification. Despite the enemy approaching around the corner, they stopped.

“You go ahead,” Laurens said in a whisper. “I’ve got no chance of making it, but I can hold them off.”

Something unpleasant twisted in Alexander’s gut. “I won’t leave you.”

Laurens laughed. “It’s a game, Alexander. What happens to me won’t matter when you win us the trophy.”

“Right,” Alexander said. His mouth settled into a firm line. He and Laurens shook hands and counted until three. On the count of three, Laurens stepped out of cover and drew the attention of the opposing force. Alexander made a break for it. He ran as fast as he could, heedless of the flashing lights and buzzing sounds around him. His vest beeped a warning, but it did not drone the disqualification signal. He was safe. Even knowing he was safe, Alexander did not stop running until he saw it ahead of him: the trophy. 

The trophy sat on a raised dais in the centre of a four way junction. All Alexander had to do was cross the open space and take it. He took a step forward. At the same time, a figure stepped out of the passage opposite him. Alexander raised his gun. A second later, he lifted it high, putting both his hands in the air. He would have tried his luck against almost any of his fellow students, but Aaron was smart. The only chance Alexander had of winning was distracting him long enough to plan something clever.

“We can work something out,” Alexander said. Aaron looked at him, his expression giving away nothing. His lips tilted up into the faintest hint of a smile. Before Alexander could say another word, he lifted his gun and shot Alexander square in the chest. Alexander gaped at him. Aaron fired two more shots, and Alexander's vest wailed out the disqualification tone. There was nothing Alexander could do but watch as Aaron walked across the room and took the trophy. Even now, he looked calm, walking across the small space with only the faintest hint of a swagger. He did not rush, nor did he taunt Alexander. The silence made it all the worse. Anger burned in Alexander’s chest before settling into a different kind of warmth low in his belly. Alexander bit back a groan. The last thing he needed was for his libido to decide that smug smile was attractive, but he could not deny what he felt. The latent interest he had ignored over the past week flared. It had not just been admiration and envy: it had been desire. In that moment, Alexander was confident he had the worst taste in the world. 

“I hate you,” he told Aaron. Aaron smiled at him. Instead of replying, he pressed the radio button on his vest and announced,

“This is Burr. I have the trophy.”

Even without the radio, Alexander heard a wave of both cheers and groans of frustration. Aaron patted Alexander on the back.

“If it’s any comfort, you never stood a chance. We win every year.”

“You didn’t win last year,” Alexander pointed out. It was petty, but he could not stop himself. He could not even read all the names on the trophy in the dark, but he could see that the previous years entry was a lot longer than ‘Aaron Burr’. To his frustration, Aaron just laughed. He brushed his thumb over the previous year’s entry.

“I wasn’t leading last year, no, but they did let me play. My friend won the last two years. I played under her team, and I promised her I’d keep the victory streak going.”

There was a strange note in Aaron’s voice, a soft of tenderness and warmth that had not been there before. It brought a scowl to Alexander’s face. It was bad enough that he had developed an inconvenient crush on the man. It was a thousand times worse to learn that he was _straight_.Yes, Aaron had referred to the mysterious woman as a friend - but it was easier to tell himself Aaron was in love with her. He'd never seen such tenderness from Aaron before. It suited Alexander perfectly. If Aaron was straight, he was safely out of reach and, as far as Alexander was concerned, unattractive by default. 

They found the rest of the students waiting for them at the exit to the maze. Laurens tackled Alexander as soon as he stepped through the entryway, ruffling his hair and asking if he had at least been close. On the bus home, Alexander retold the story many times. The tale grew more dramatic with each retelling as Alexander embellished the parts which painted him in a positive light. As he did, he watched Hercules and Aaron in the front seat and wondered what version of the story Aaron would tell.


End file.
